DEEK!

The Life in Front of Me

The bridge marked the edge of it.

Beyond it, nothing that belonged to us. The playground stopped there. Bags of puppies were thrown into the river. Waste. Whatever came down from somewhere else.

At low tide the river pulled back and showed everything it had been holding. Carcasses. Shopping carts. Old wharf pillars breaking through the mud.

You could go that far. No further.

This is where it starts.

North East. Then elsewhere. Heat that sits on your chest. Work that follows you out of the building. Rooms that aren’t yours. Systems, names, expectations. Family in pieces and put back together. Things said. Things left.

Nothing arrives as a lesson. Nothing resolves cleanly.

What holds, holds. What cuts, cuts. Some of it stays.

There isn’t a view from above. Just what’s in front of you. And the fact you have to meet it.